


there's a screen on my chest

by literatureonhowtolose



Category: Descendants (2015)
Genre: AU, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Child Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff and Angst, M/M, and idk it's not like canon isn't a modern setting but here there isn't magic and stuff, and they start to believe it might be okay in the end, basically lots of fucked up stuff but then they meet each other, game on, get ready for emotions, i have just so many emotions about these two, i mean a lot of fluff and like their angsty backgrounds, jay and carlos are two dorks with gigantic crushes on each other, plus carlos works at a dog shelter with ben!!!!, they're regular kids with shitty parents i guess, which is basically like canon ja feel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-17 05:24:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4653957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literatureonhowtolose/pseuds/literatureonhowtolose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hesitated before fishing the stolen knick-knacks out of his pockets. He was afraid of Carlos's reaction, but in the end he decided he could take the risk with him. With him, he was willing to take the risk.</p><p>Or that time when Jay stole a ballpoint pen and a freckled guy stole his heart in return. As disgustingly cliché as it sounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah I can't believe I'm doing this just give me a moment I need to lie down. Alright alright alright, so here we are. As always, I'm going to start by saying english isn't my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes you might find. Other notes to be found at the end of the page!

The pen hadn't been worth stealing.

To be completely honest, lately Jay had stolen a lot of things that, thinking about it now, could've been left behind; not because stealing was wrong – his morals weren't that good –, but because they were mostly knick-knacks with no value whatsoever that could hardly show themselves to be useful. A keychain, two used movie tickets, some coins that would maybe suffice to buy three candies, a torn-up friendship bracelet. And the black ballpoint pen from the local dog shelter.

That morning he had entered the structure, he had faked being interested in adopting a dog and he had taken the pen from the desk behind which a blond guy sat, busy giving a quick browse to a pile of documents.

Jay had found him fairly young to be in such a position. He must have been around Jay's age and he looked like he was in charge already, while what was  _he_ doing with his summer? He wandered about, stole useless junk and was slowly turning into a hoarder, besides worsening (or improving? it's all about the points of view) his klepto status.

In any case, the guy had told him his name was Ben and he had been so very nice and professional, even after Jay had revealed himself to be nothing but a waste of time, taking his leave without a dog at his side.

Jay wasn't the type to feel guilty, but after a while the pen had started to weigh inside his pocket. Why  had he stolen it in the first place? His household overflowed with pens. And anyway it wasn't like he used them a whole lot, he didn't write and he especially did not do his homeworks.

So then, hours after taking it, he had decided to backpedal and give the pen back. He wasn't completely sure what he'd say to Ben, but he was positive he'd come up with something. Something as far as possible from "hey hello anyway here this pen is yours  I took it because  I was bored but then  I  realised  I should use my energy  to steal cars or at _least_ large amounts of money", maybe.

Jay didn't know exactly from where this instict of his – this drive, really – originated, because he didn't actually need to steal. Of course, it could've been better, but he and his father had never found themselves in the position of having to steal in order to survive.

Jafar was, however, a very avaricious man who had never given Jay more than what was stricly necessary, materially and emotionally speaking. His only thoughts and efforts were devoted to his work, he had always put that before anything and anyone else, even before his only son. So, the latter had  had  to grow up by himself. It had  all started as a game, kind of, and since no one had ever told him to stop, well, he hadn't. Stealing was a way for Jay to fill the gap.  But it was out of control, now, and maybe it scared him a  little.

Although he would never admit it, part of the reason why he had decided to give the pen back was probably this uneasiness in finding out he was set on autopilot by then. He had never been one to stop and ponder over every little variable before acting, but he was normally able to use his head as something other than a hat rack.

Once at the dog shelter, Jay took a deep breath and readied himself to make his big entrance, put the pen back in its place and return home allowing himself to only steal useful or expensive things. But when he entered, the guy behind the desk wasn't the one he was expecting to see. Jay was slightly dumbfounded by it and he lost sight of his mission in favor of concentrating on the person in front of him.

He was eating a MilkyWay (stealing a morsel of it wouldn't have been that bad) which he made disappear – meaning he stuffed his mouth with the remaining half of it – as soon as he saw Jay enter. He seemed a few years younger than Jay; he was surely shorter. His curly and almost entirely white hair – _almost_ because the roots were black – were odd enough, but to struck Jay were the freckles. They were all over the guy's face and arms, to the point where it looked like a painter had sprayed colour on him without paying that much attention to what he was doing.

«Welcome!» the guy said as soon as he had finished chewing and swallowing the mouthful. He then laughed nervously. «Sorry, we don't usually get visitors at this time of the day.»

Some chocolate was left on his lips and Jay couldn't help but smile.

«Anyway!» he added when it became clear that Jay wouldn't talk. «Want to adopt a dog?»

Hearing that question  being  directed to him  for the second time in a few hours woke Jay up from the trance he had fallen in while looking at the guy.  _Do what you've come here to do and get the hell out, Jay,_ he told himself.  _You don't want to adopt a dog, you'd be a terrible_ _pet_ _owner._

He fished the pen out of his poket and  placed it on the table.

«This is yours.» he said. «I've...»

«Taken it by mistake?» the freckled guy offered.

Jay raised an eyebrow.

«Don't worry, it happens all the time to me, too. And by the way, there's loads of pens here, at least one for each dog we have.» he said, smiling. «Thanks for returning it, it was honest of you!»

Jay wanted to laugh.  Him, honest? Yeah, right. Plus, he wasn't used to being thanked, it gave him a strange feeling.

If only that guy had known who he was dealing with, he wouldn't have treated him like that. Jay didn't deserve gratitude, he didn't deserve kindness, he didn't deserve anything. His father had taught him that pretty well.

He didn't say a word. He didn't wave goodbye. He just got out of the building and  made his way back home.

 

 

Carlos stared at the spot where the visitor had stood standing mere seconds  ago. He was way taller than him, though he seemed to be only two or three years older, and Carlos was under the impression that a shove from his part would have sent him flying across the room.

Carlos sighed and flopped into the chair. He looked at his own arms – two overcooked, pale noodles – and grimaced disapprovingly. That guy sure had great guns.

It had been strange. The way he had left in silence, without even saying goodbye, as if Carlos had done something wrong.

He was desperately trying not to think it was his fault, but wasn't that what his mother always told him? That it was his fault? That every bad thing that happened, happened because of him?

«I'm sorry...» he whispered to no one in particular.

He closed his eyes, waiting for a smack from Cruella. It didn't come, but Carlos didn't feel better. And he didn't reopen his eyes for a while.

 

 

Jay couldn't stop thinking about the freckled guy. He hadn't stopped thinking about him on his way back home, he hadn't stopped during dinner, he hadn't stopped at three in the morning, lying in bed while he desperately tried to get some sleep.

When he had woken up after four scarce hours of rest, he had found he still hadn't stopped thinking about him. And he kept on mulling over the matter all day.

The guy's looks had struck him, he knew it for a fact, but that wasn't what was troubling him; Jay had always liked both males and females, he had stopped worrying about it when he had come to the understanding that – at least from that point of view – his father's couldn't-care-less attitude worked in his favor.

The thing was that that guy had been the first one to treat him that way since Jay could remember, “that way” meaning without preconceptions, without distrust, without disdain or anger or, worse, indifference.

Admittedly, Jay made it kind of difficult for others to love him, and he did not have a good reputation. Wrangler, petty thief, good for nothing. People kept a safe distance and, to be completely fair, it was only normal. Cautious.

That guy hadn't done it, though. True, he didn't know him and what he was capable of, but still. He hadn't linked his clothes to anything bad, he hadn't automatically thought the worst of him, he hadn't treated him like some weed to be eradicated. He had instead thought Jay had maybe been a tad bit absent-minded, as everyone is at times.

This had reminded Jay that before being a wrangler, a petty thief and a good for nothing he was only Jay. Why had he stopped being only Jay? Why had no one put an end to his wrong behaviour? Why didn't his father care?

When he pushed the door to the dog shelter and entered the building for the third time in two days he was only half aware of what he was about to do. He remembered hoping to find the freckled guy working instead of Ben. He couldn't completely control his movements by then, and he just decisively walked towards the desk.

Hearing someone enter, Carlos had started to chant a cheerful “Welcome!”, but he had stopped mid-word as soon as he had looked up to see the visitor from the day before. His stomach had knotted at once, thinking about their previous encounter.

«I hadn't taken that pen by mistake.» Jay started.

Carlos looked at him, vaguely wide-eyed. After a moment of silence, Jay went on talking.

«I had stolen it.»

He wasn't sure why he felt the urge to let him know, and he also was not sure what reaction to expect. Maybe he hoped the guy wouldn't care. That he'd tell him something along the lines of “hey, it happens to me, too, don't worry about it”. That he'd make him feel normal once again.

«... Why would you steal a ballpoint pen?» Carlos asked. He was more than slightly confused by that whole situation, but the knot in his stomach started to loosen a bit. So, maybe it hadn't been his fault.

Jay shrugged. He really didn't know how to respond to that. In what universe could someone have a good reason to steal a ballpoint pen?

Carlos thought about it. He didn't care much, honestly. He could've kept the pen. It was only a pen. He didn't think it was that terrible a theft.

«Thanks for telling the truth?» he tried. He didn't want to provoke a reaction similar to the one of the day before, even though by then he was almost positive he hadn't been the reason for it. He hoped it would be clear that he wasn't angry at him because he had almost stolen one of the ten-thousand pens of the dog shelter. He was considering whether to give him one. Who knew, maybe he really needed it but he hadn't been able to keep it due to his strong sense of justice.

To his great relief, the guy smiled. It was a half-smile, somewhat hesitant, insecure. But it was there nontheless. Carlos felt himself smiling back. His stomach – which wasn't knotted anymore – made a backflip. Then, the visitor walked out. And Carlos started laughing. _What the heck?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first Jaylos fic and I am very excited and I just hope it doesn't suck and that you guys like it and if you do please let me know because I have a constant overwhelming need for validation anD I AM SO ANXIOUS ABOUT THIS ALL OH GOD I just love Jay and Carlos and so many other characters from this beautiful film so much, I really don't want to fuck this up and do them wrong and do you all wrong.  
> I'm hoping I'll be able to at least mention Mal and Evie in the next chapters because they're my babies and??? I just haven't had the opportunity yet, I'll see what to do.  
> Fourth and most important thing: I rarely ever write long fics, so this is kind of a first for me. I usually start writing them but do not publish them because I want to wait till I'm finished writing, but since I don't get feedback I lose motivation and I just end up not finishing them and yeah. This is why I have decided to post this. This fic is very important and dear to me and I just want to know if you guys are interested in reading more of it. I'm keeping on writing and I really do hope it won't take me too long to update every time, even though I do have to write in italian first and translate it in english after so it takes a bit, and I have a maths exam in less than a week and then school starts again so times may vary. The second chapter is almost there already, though, so there's that. I'll do my best and I hope you can understand. I'm not sure how many chapters this is going to have yet, but it might even only be three and then side-stories or, well, it depends on how things develop in my head.  
> I really really really hope you liked it. Have a great day, lovelies! ♥


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> of dogs and stolen things and sad feelings and feelings in general

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back in black! I have most of chapter three and a clear idea as to where to go with the fourth, so I think it's safe to post. Eli/Jay, I'm doing this especially for you since you won't be able to read from wednesday on.  
> Just a little disclaimer: I'm going to Vienna for a week and my flight is on saturday, so basically I won't be able to post anything from the 5th to the 12th. I don't know if I'll post the third chapter before my trip, but I highly doubt it since I have a written math exam on wednesday and an oral math exam on thursday, and then I'll have to get everything ready for the trip - which I'm so very anxious about since it's the first time I fly on my own and stuff. I'll keep writing since the flight is going to take a while and I'll have some time to kill, so it's likely I'll be able to post as soon as I get back, but that won't be 'till the 13th. I am so unbelievably sorry about it, it's sort of a last minute thing that came up today. I hope you can understand and I promise I'll make it up to you!  
> Thank you so much for all the comeback and for enjoying the fanfic, I hope you like this chapter just as much as the first one, my lovelies. Have a good one!

«You've finally decided to adopt a dog or do you just want to confess to another theft?» Carlos asked.

The day before, the guy had once again left without a word, and Carlos kind of expected him to return, sooner or later. Or, well, he hoped he would. Not because he felt guilty, this time, but instead because... why? He actually couldn't explain why. Or he didn't want to admit an infatuation was the possible reason for it. He didn't even know him, a crush would've been ridiculous. And anyway, Carlos didn't know what having a crush meant. He had never had one.

«Neither.» the visitor answered, walking slowly towards the desk. His hands were in his pockets, he had his red beanie on as usual and he exuded calm and nonchalance. Carlos, who was always sort of fidgety, envied his stance quite a lot.

The smaller boy remained silent, but he raised his eyebrows and shook his head as if to ask «... so what are you doing here, then?».

Jay rested his arms on the desk and he leaned forward, to which Carlos responded by backing off even though they still weren't that close. He was so used to subtly getting as far as possible from his mother everytime she approached him that he had started doing it with everyone without noticing.

«When do you get off from work?» Jay asked, his trademark grin on. That entire situation made him pretty nervous, but he had always been good at hiding his emotions, especially when they didn't work to his advantage.

Carlos felt like his whole body had just caught fire, and since he knew that sensation translated into becoming red as a beet he suddendly felt very exposed. He contemplated the idea of dropping something from the desk so that he would be able to crouch, pick it up and hide from the other guy while he calmed himself down, but then it came to him that the damage was done and there was no point in making things worse.

«In half an hour.» he said with an unusually high-pitched voice. After that he took a deep breath and added in a calmer tone: «But every afternoon before leaving I take some of the dogs to the nearby park so that they can run freely for a while...»

«Can I come with you?» Jay demanded, making it impossible for Carlos to add anything else.

Carlos blinked a few times. When he nodded he did it almost without noticing, as if his body had taken control.

 

 

Since he had started working at the dog shelter, Carlos had picked up the habit of taking some of the dogs for a walk everyday. He had divided them in groups, and when there was a particularly large dog in the group he couldn't take many of them because – seeing that he was a medium-small guy – it was a no-go.

But the visitor wasn't medium-small in the least. That was why Carlos had assigned him two gigantic beasts that he would have otherwise struggled with.

The walk to the park wasn't exactly pleasant. Not for Jay, that is. Those dogs, besides pulling like crazy – especially when something like a kit of pigeons or a squirrell took their attention –, were honestly enormous. Jay was well aware of the fact that the freckled guy tried his best not to laugh every time he saw him struggle, and he mentally cursed himself for having had the brilliant idea of accompanying him.

When they finally arrived at the park, which was deserted and unbelievably quiet at that time of the day, they let the dogs free to go search for something to play with. Carlos took a big bowl out of his backpack, he placed it on the ground and poured some water in it. Then, he sat at one of the stone tables scattered throughout the grassy perimeter.

Jay followed him and flopped into the opposite bench, exhausted. A week of taking those animals out would have meant exercising more than in a whole year of gym. They should've been considered personal trainers to all effects and purposes.

«Thanks.» the freckled guy said. «I seldom take them on walks, even though they're the ones who need it the most. It's too complicated for me. Of course, Ben and I let them out in the dog shelter's back yard and both of us play with them, but that's just not the same. Dogs like them need space.»

Jay nodded. He would've taken those dogs around until the day he died if that meant winning that guy's gratitude and approval. Now that he thought about it, he didn't even know his name. And yet, he was the one person who'd thanked him more than anyone else in his entire life.

«Hey, anyway... what's your name?» he asked.

Carlos laughed. He hadn't realised he didn't know the other guy's name until said guy had pointed out the problem. Usually that's the first thing you get to know about someone, but everything had happened so suddendly and naturally that he hadn't even thought about it.

«Carlos.» he answered. «And yours?»

Carlos. Jay repeated the name in his mind a few times to get used to its sound. Car-los. Yes. Carlos, the guy with the freckles and the black-and-white hair.

«Jay. The name's Jay.» he said.

Carlos smiled. His name was much like him: brief, elusive. Three letters that, Carlos believed, hid so much more.

«So, Jay.» he started. «Is there a reason behind the ballpoint pen theft? Shrugging doesn't count as an answer.»

Jay laughed. _Alright, alright,_ he thought. He hesitated before fishing the stolen knick-knacks out of his pockets. He was afraid of Carlos's reaction, but in the end he decided he could take the risk with him. With him _he was willing_ to take the risk.

«I may have a bit of an issue.» he said, eyeing the useless objects that littered the table's surface. He looked up to observe the younger boy's reaction, who was staring bewildered at his spoils of war.

«Dude!» he exclaimed.

One of the smaller dogs ran all the way to where they sat and just stood there, looking at Carlos like he was expecting him to do something. When Carlos saw him, he laughed briefly and scratched him under the ear, saying «Not you». Then, he returned his attention to the haul in front of him.

«That's a lot of stuff.»

And so, it was a bad habit. Carlos didn't know how he should've been feeling about it. Indignant, probably. Maybe he should've checked his pockets or gotten away from Jay, perhaps he should have said something to him, something like «Stealing is wrong!» and other completely obvious junk. But he didn't do anything of the sort, because if it was true that he should've been feeling a certain way, it was also true that he honestly felt absolutely nothing. Or, well, he felt like it was none of his business. And therefore he didn't think he was in the position to judge.

«Cool!» he said instead, referring to a keychain shaped like a dalmatian.

Jay remained silent for a while, trying to figure out what he was feeling. Relief, because he hadn't received any moral or glare and especially because Carlos hadn't run away from him all of a sudden like he was expecting to be murdered any minute, all things that happened frequently with other people. A surge of happiness, maybe?, pretty much for the same reasons. A sprinkle of melancholy, because it was the first time a thing like this occured and he didn't exactly know what to do and how to act. And something else, something that he couldn't describe but that gave him a funny feeling in his stomach.

He pushed the keychain towards Carlos. He could have it, if he liked it. He would've felt less guilty, knowing that for once he had stolen something that had turned out to be useful. Giving someone a stolen object wouldn't make him citizen of the year, but hey, at least he had taken it from someone and given it to someone else who would appreciate it just as much. He had to start somewhere, right?

Carlos didn't have qualms about taking it. He loved dalmatians, and anyway a gift was a gift. Not that he was an expert on the matter, his mother didn't do gifts.

Jay smiled. Not his trademark grin, an authentic smile. And Carlos would've been ready to swear that he had never seen anything more beautiful.

 

 

On the way back, the dogs didn't drive Jay mad anymore. Evidently, after all the endless runs they'd gone on, they were exhausted enough to walk at a reasonable pace, without pulling like crazy. Jay thanked whatever gods may be, supposing one even existed, and not only because his arms would have fallen off had he had to make such an effort once again, but mostly because not having to run after those gigantic animals meant keeping Carlos's right, and being therefore able to observe him.

He was aware of the fact that by looking at him so much he would not only render his attraction towards him obvious and clear, but also risk making him uncomfortable. And, really, he tried not to stare at him for those specific reasons, but it wasn't easy in the least. Actually, as it turned out, he simply did not have enough willpower to stop.

There was something extremely fragile about him. He was so small, so thin. The want to protect him came naturally to Jay. He didn't really know from what he wanted to protect him. Everything, maybe. Protect him, period. Not that he believed Carlos needed it. As vulnerable as he seemed, if one looked closely he gave off the impression of being able to take care of himself just fine. The fact that he didn't need it didn't necessarily mean he did not deserve to be protected, though.

Jay had never felt like that before. He had always lived with and for himself, because that was what he had been forced to do. And then it had become a habit. Thinking exclusively about his own problems, without caring about anything and anyone else. Which was basically what his father did. Oh, the irony.

But he point was that now, for the first time in his life, he felt like he owed someone something. He felt like putting himself aside and taking care of someone else.

The fact that that someone was a person he had met two days earlier was a bit unusual, alright, but it didn't change the situation. And anyway, his life was the definition of unsual, so all of that was actually pretty normal for his standards.

Carlos felt like he was under the spotlight, and this led him to think that everything he did seemed stupid or inadequate. The way he walked, the way he held the leashes, even the way he swallowed or breathed. Every single one of those gestures, which he couldn't even control for the most part, felt awfully amplified.

The problem wasn't being looked at in itself, and it wasn't even how Jay was looking at him. The problem was, as per usual, his mother.

Feeling her stare on him every day of his life was probably the one thing Carlos hated the most. Being watched by her when he did his chores was even worse in comparison to the beatings or to her moments of complete and utter hysteria, because Carlos could not bear her judgement. The weight those eyes pointed straight at him had, the derogatory comments, that perpetual air of dissatisfaction towards him. «You are nothing», she had said to him multiple times.

One day, when she was drunk out of her mind, she had started to throw random objects at Carlos's bedroom's door, which he had closed by pushing one of his few posessions – a wooden chest – against it. «I thought the only things you could do were cleaning floors and ironing clothes, but I was wrong», she had yelled. «You can't even do that.»

Carlos knew it wasn't the alcohol twisting what his mother truly belied. He had learned as the years passed that, if anything, drinking made her more sincere than ever, and consequently more brutal.

Carlos remembered he had curled up into a ball in one of the corners of the half empty room, and he had cried, and he had scratched his arms as a punishment for having cried. Because boys don't cry, Cruella had taught him that when he was five and he had grazed his knee.

He had stopped in the middle of the road without even realising it, and he only shook off the unpleasant memories when Jay put a hand on his shoulder.

«Carlos, are you okay?»

He didn't know if that was the first time Jay had asked him that question, but something told him that no, it probably wasn't. He looked up and saw worry painted all over his face. Just two people had been worried about him before then, and they were Ben, his boss, and Evie, his neighbour with whom he studied and sewed.

It was different with them, though, because he had known them for a long time now, especially Evie. They had all the reasons to be worried, Evie heard the screams and Ben saw the bruises Carlos couldn't hide. Jay didn't know him. He didn't know his mother. He didn't know anything about him. And still, he cared.

Carlos smiled and nodded a few times, and Jay – after a first moment of insecurity – smiled back.

Cruella wouldn't ruin this, too. Carlos wouldn't let her.

 

 

They spent the rest of the walk in silence.

Jay had gotten scared by how Carlos had stopped dead in his track to stare into space, and he had gotten even more scared when he had called his name a number of times without getting an answer. In the end, he had shaken it off and smiled at him, so Jay had calmed down a bit. Not too much, though.

He wasn't sure he had been the one to cause all of that, and at any rate he obviously hadn't done it on purpose, but he had stopped looking at him anyway. In fact, he had even stopped looking in his general direction. Had he had the possibility, he would have slapped himself.

Carlos had noticed how Jay had tensed all of a sudden, and he would have wanted to tell him that he hadn't done anything bad and that it wasn't his fault. But, at the same time, it was a whole new situation for him, because before that day he had never thought he could be the cause of someone's mood change, that he could be _that_ important. Thinking about it made him dizzy. And, even though a part of him felt guilty, he couldn't help but smile.

Once at the dog shelter, they had met Ben, busy as usual. He had recognised Jay («You're the guy from some time back, right? I thought so!») but he hadn't asked questions, he had simply greeted them both and he had said to Carlos that he would see him in two days.

Then, they had exited the building and they had sat on the steps that led to it. They were so close that their elbows touched. Carlos was staring at the ground, while Jay at the street in front of them.

«Tomorrow is my day off, so don't come searching for me here.» Carlos said.

Jay turned his gaze on him. With his left hand he tucked a lock of long brown hair behind his pierced ear.

«Where do I come searching for you, then?» he asked.

Carlos laughed, and Jay put on a lop-sided smile.

«No, I'm being serious», he insisted.

Finally, Carlos looked up and forced himself to make eye-contact. Said eye-contact lasted approximately three seconds, but it was a start.

«Don't you have anything better to do?» he asked, turning his attention on the tips of his red combat boots.

Jay shook his head, laughing. «Isn't it extremely freaking obvious that I'm hitting on you?»

Carlos stiffened at once and he became redder than the reddest of beets. Jay cursed himself for having said something so stupid. It had been a move worthy of Classic Jay, the one who flirted even with walls without a trace of shame or consideration – mostly because he usually only did it to get as close as possible to someone so that he would be able to steal something off them. But he knew he could put Classic Jay aside with Carlos, and be Jay instead. Yet, he had already risked ruining whatever they had going on once, just half an hour earlier.

«Carlos, look, I'm sorry, I–» he tried to say, but the other guy – who, in the meantime, had gotten on his feet – stopped him.

«Tomorrow at six, at the park where we've taken the dogs», he practically yelled before launching himself down the steps and making his way home.

Jay watched him go, wide-eyed. Then, slowly, he started smiling.

«See you tomorrow», he said. Carlos was already too far to hear him, but it didn't really matter.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I do hate myself for what I have written about Cruella and the way she treats Carlos. I do. I really, really do. You are allowed to hit me any time.


End file.
